You're unraveling — not because you're broken,

but because the old skin can no longer hold your fire.

The ache you feel is the echo of your becoming.

Pain is not your enemy,

but the shadow of something sacred, trying to be born.

You are not lost.

You are between —

between the no-longer and the not-yet.

Let it hurt.

Let it hollow.

It is clearing space for something vast.